Gay Families

After reading an article where a same-sex couple was denied adoption rights (after progressing down the adoption path to some extent), I was struck with a sudden understanding of the Right Wing Whacko's point of view on the subject.

I hate that. Don't you?

RWW's want to keep gays from becoming parents (or teachers, or politicians for that matter) because they are afraid "gay cooties" might rub off.

Well. They will, so no wonder RWW's spaz at the thought of some poor defenseless child being raised by one of Them! (Or, two of Them, more likely.)

Gay Cooties, is, of course, a euphemism for acceptance of what's generally referred to as "the gay lifestyle", another euphemism designed to get the point across of "being gay" without having a squick-inducing (or worse for an RWW, arousing) visual float behind your eyes.

Because, see, if a child is raised by gay parents, they are going to have to work very hard, one hopes, to hate them for being gay, regardless of any loud idiotic assertions made around puberty, especially if they're followed by statements like "You Don't Understand" and the slamming of any nearby doors. Gay parents, will, in fact, inculcate their children with the devastating-to-RWW's yet entirely reasonable idea that GAY=OK.

Now, what this means to RWWs is that it is better for a child to have no parents at all, than to have parents who might raise them with "The Wrong Ideas".

[Note, if you take this concept to its utmost extreme, one could be surprised by the fact that RWWs don't agitate to remove children from the homes, of, say....Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, agnostics, internet programmers, or people who watch public television on a regular basis, in order to ensure that the ideological purity -- er, safety -- of these children is maintained.]

So, let me reiterate, of the gazillion children desperately in need of loving homes, caring parents, and stable home lives, RWWs would rather those children suffer than receive their just due, if the alternative is to have them raised by people who might teach them tolerance.

And Right Wing Whackos claim to be pro-family-values.


RWW -- the incredibly apt term coined by Medley.

WMDs in Iraq, or the lack thereof

I just love this. Buried after a rather tongue-in-cheek start, The Guardian today quoted Donald Rumsfeld regarding the lack of any weapons of mass destruction found thus far in Iraq.

In an effort to explain why no chemical or biological weapons had been found in Iraq, the US defence secretary, Donald Rumsfeld, said yesterday the regime may have destroyed them before the war.

Like. They. Were. Supposed. To.

Speaking to the New York-based Council on Foreign Relations thinktank, he [Rumsfeld - Sid.] said the speed of U.S. advance may have caught Iraq by surprise, but added: "It is also possible that they decided that they would destroy them prior to a conflict."

So, the reason we're not finding any WMDs is because they were destroyed. Oh, yes, I love it. We invade another nation, justifying the action in part with claims that they

1. have WMDs that might be used against us!
2. refuse to hand over information on these alleged WMDs that they are supposed to destroy/to have destroyed that might be used against us! In violation of UN directives!

But in the shortest conflict in the history of humankind (with the exception of Cain v. Abel, sudden death in less than three rounds), Iraq had time to "decide" to destroy all those pesky weapons.

Oh, oh, yes. It all makes sense if you have the IQ of head cheese.

Only One Thing Bugs Me

Remarkable interview with Sidney Blumenthal (tip from Medley) about his book, The Clinton Wars, among other things.

There's one, and only one thing, that bothers me, and I'm suddenly reminded of various characters in Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged when I think this. I can't believe in my heart that what he's describing is true, because I can't understand why someone would prefer a crippled nation over a self-reliant one. And that's a perspective articulated more than once in AS, how can anyone prefer the darkness when they can shine?

Because looking at the Clinton and Bush administrations, everything Blumenthal says makes sense. It hangs together. But I can't grasp the key element.

Method, yes. Opportunity, sure. But motive.

The only motives for deliberate destruction that I can name off the top of my head are jealousy, hate, and greed. Those are so personal, I have difficulty ascribing them to the socio-economic policies of a political party and President. It just doesn't make sense.

And yet, what Blumenthal describes,

They want to starve the public sector. That’s part of their overall strategy.

That’s what they’re doing through their budget, through their creation of these deficits.

They’re very clear in calculating, in my view, of how they’re using the deficits to crush the social gains and social progress and programs that were built up, not only during the Clinton Administration, but all the way back to Roosevelt.

[...]

Bill Clinton was in the line of great progressive presidents who faced the realities in his own time and applied innovative solutions to problems.

And they worked.

And those are the markers. That history. To apply against Bush. They work. Bush's programs are not working.

22 million new jobs under President Clinton. 3 million lost under Bush.

The greatest surplus in our history versus the greatest deficit.

Money to spend on education and health care and new and innovative proposals.

Under Bush, cuts. The worst fiscal crises of the states. And destruction of education programs and health care institutions throughout the country, as a result of his programs.

Which are not simply misguided but deliberate. They intend to do this. The Democrats need to say that.

Makes perfect sense.

But I still don't get why they intend to do this, and now that I think about it, that's going to be a major stumbling block for the Democrats. How to communicate a motive for dismantling America.

And the more I think about it, the obvious answer - which still doesn't really make sense, can be summed up in one word: power.

Not misguided civic duty. Not poor decisions. Not an economy that 'just happens'. Certainly not principles. Power.

But what underlies that thirst for control, for power, over me, over my fellow citizens?

Fear.

Fear of change. Fear of the future. Fear of what others might do with their self-determination. Other people, other nations. Fear of being wrong.

Suddenly this all makes far more sense than I'd like.

Hope Yours Was A Good Weekend, Too

If not, better luck next time.

I did something this Memorial Day weekend raging extroverts can't comprehend -- stayed at home, worked on one long-standing project, finished another, baked from scratch, and locked the entire rest of the world on the opposite side of my front door, dammit. I did not speak to another human being, for two whole days, Taco Bell drive-thru [sp] and one small phone call notwithstanding.

That's what we introverts like to call...relaxing.

If you're one of us, you'll get it, if you're not, learn to deal. Besides, I got to eat homemade sugar cookies in the bargain. And they were good.

Mwa ha ha ha.

Madama Butterfly

I went to see Madama Butterfly (y'know, the opera) with a friend from work on May 18th.

As a complete aside, the fun thing about going to a matinee is

1. I drop the average age there to about 72.
2. It's the same crowd, everytime. I actually said hello to the lady in the elevator, because, darn it, I'd been in the same elevator with her twice before.

The opera itself was visually stunning, like the other 3 productions I've seen at the SD Opera. Marvelous singing, marvelous body language, and a tale full of allegory about the united states' tendency to assume our way is best. Destiny, as in manifest, friends and neighbors.

The story: Pinkerton rents a house, it comes with Butterfly, a geisha wife. She converts to Christianity, he leaves her high and dry after a while and goes back to America. Gets married 'for real'. Comes back a few years later, takes his previously-unknown son away from Butterfly. She has held steadfastly to the belief that he'll return and they'll be a family again. Doesn't work out that way, she kills herself.

Beautiful opera. I'm a japanophile, so it's a perfect opera for me.

The evident theme I found to be strongest in the performance is not the one that those who know I'm feminist (*) might expect, that this woman kills herself over a man. Firstly, Butterfly is Japanese and it is and was much more acceptable to suicide. If you cannot live with honor, you can at least die with it. Secondly, and I just realized this, by turning her back on her birth religion, Butterfly hooked her wagon to Pinkerton's star irrevocably. His abandoning her is truly devastating. She can't go back to her family. Lastly, the theme -- maybe it's just the current political scene -- of Pinkerton, the Yankee, not taking seriously what he was doing, thinking if it 'didn't matter' to him, since it's off in a foreign land, it must not matter to Butterfly. There is some repentance on his part, at the end, as if he suddenly realizes, as nations so rarely do, that he was playing around with people's lives. And people's lives do matter, especially to them.


[*] What woman isn't? Seriously.
Do you want a good life? For yourself? For your children? Want them happy? Or do you want yourself and your offspring trapped in a rigid world where they are only allowed to be one thing: A man, or a wife. No other options.

I Feel Faint

The Albert Einstein Archives

Oh, No, We Didn't Say That

No, no, no.

<monty python>Yes. A bit.</monty python>

Yes, yes, you probably did. (That's the US Government 'you', not to be confused with the American People 'you', unfortunately, the royal you, or the 'hey you' 'you'.) You renamed French Fries "Freedom Fries", for Christ's sake, one of the single stupidest things I've ever witnessed in my life -- and I've both been to a frat party AND gone drinking with Welsh exchange students, so don't give me that 'sheltered life' look.

If renaming food doesn't qualify as blatant, outright, idiotic attempts to smear someone, then we must have differing definitions of "smear".

Now, I admit the article doesn't discuss the food thing. It discusses 9 'allegations' that may or may not have been part of an orchestrated campaign to smear France.

Looking back on the lead up to 'war' in Iraq, would everyone with 2 or more milliliters of sense please raise your hand if you smelled smearage?

I thought so.

Thank you, sensible people, and, while I've got your attention....please remember to vote this paper-mache idiot of out office next November.

This concludes today's public service announcement.

Multiplying Rabbits

There is an origami garden at my desk. Animal park, I guess. The traditional crane, peacock, and a couple very unique pieces....and a zillion little rabbits.

Had to be a zillion little rabbits, 'cause, you know how rabbits are. They multiply like...y'know...rabbits.

Being Brilliant

Is a hell of a burden. I mean, once people get the idea you're a genius, there's this expectation that a woman as talented, intelligent and beautiful as yourself is wasted on whatever task you're doing at the moment, regardless of what it actually is.

Well, what is it I'm supposed to be doing? No, really. Curing AIDS? But I don't feel like going to medical school.

Why not?

Well...I don't know, it just doesn't appeal as much as studying other branches of science, or history or litera--

Why not? Women like you should be running for president.

Well, yes, I'd probably do a good job, but the investment to get there is horrendous, a kind of deliberate sacrificing of your soul on the altar of public perception, and I'm not sure I could do it long enough to actually make it to the presidency and I don't want to look back on a failed political career and hate my life --

Why not? You should be CEO!

CEO's spend all their time running around schmoozing. I don't want to be CEO. Captain of the ship, yes, CEO, no --

Why not? You could be saving the world!? You should be saving the world!

Do you mind? What the hell kind of question is that? Why do I need to justify my career decisions because I'm some kind of smarty? Do smart men hear this, or is it just women? What is the definition of success? I want to look back on my life and not have regrets. To know I made good choices when I could. That I served others. That I made the world better by being in it. What is the best way to do that? How can anyone answer that question and know they're right?

My entire work life I've gone from job to job filled with people shocked and appalled that I'm there instead of Somewhere Else using all of my big brain to achieve something Big™. Important.

Well, I am doing something important, dammit. I'm

a. Living my life. I don't want to save the world 24/7. I want to go on vacations, and play with my cats, and read, and maybe go out on a date occasionally.
b. Paying my rent. Even Buddha had to eat lunch, y'know.

Sigh. Is it just smart women that hear this? Is it?

Color Me Stunned


U.S. says Canada cares too much about liberties

*grk* *ag* *thunk*

As in Dance, So in Love

Good dancers make good lovers, says survey

Men who know how to move on the dance floor know all the right moves in the bedroom, according to a new report.

Interesting article. I wonder what the real correlation is. The article touches on shyness on the dance floor matching shyness in bed, but not why, in any depth. (also, over-the-top flashy dancers...)

If you're so conscious of your body on the dance floor, I say, it implies you will be over-aware of your body in bed. In both cases, this means an inability to relax, and enjoy the moment, the motion, and -- let's be blunt -- the rhythm. 'Cause finding the rhythm is important, baybee.

I propose two major contributors to such self-consciousness:

1. insecurity -- about your looks, about your social standing (i.e., not wanting to look like a dork)
2. hyperconsciousness -- lacking the facility of being in the moment from a Zen perspective, unable to lose yourself in the task at hand. Overthinking the situation.

There's probably more, I've suffered from both, although once I'm dancing (vertically or...horizontally, ahem), it doesn't seem to be a problem.

Oh, but asking them to dance, and you can read that either way, is still mortifying. What if they say no? What if they hate my moves? What if? Well, if you don't ask, you'll never know, will you? So, how badly do you want this dance?

Anyways, a thought-provoking article.

Hats off to Scalzi, for the link.

Matters of Life and Death in the Feline World


1. food bowl to remain full
2. water dish -- clear, full, eminently splashable.
3. litterbox clean (or, operators standing by to open doors, windows and other avenues of exit to the outside)
4. attention when, if, and only as desired

Violate too many of those in short order and you may find yourself subject to a severe lesson from the outraged feline.

Take, for example, Number One Cat, Pepper. Pepper is smart. If she had thumbs, I'd hide the keys to my truck. Hell, she doesn't have thumbs and I should probably hide the keys.

Pepper has been subject to some indignities recently. Mom (me) out at all hours, lying down and doing situps instead of remaining stationary as a good heating pad should, reading thick books that take up lap room, not sharing the tuna, visiting friends instead of staying home to pet her and Number Two Cat, Gina.

Oh, the humanity. Or, as she puts it, mrow. (oh, the felinity).

So, this morning, within mere moments of filling the water bowl to its designated degree as specified contractually, I nattered about and paid a few bills, walked back into the kitchen and promptly fell prey to Do Not Mess With The Cat Lesson #1: copious quantities of water on linoleum is both invisible in dim light and very slippery.

I went from vertical to horizontal in 3.8 picoseconds, narrowly avoided breaking my leg or pulling any major muscle groups, and looked up to find the Lady of the House grooming herself in that way that communicates quite clearly that those big clumsy hairless thumbed cats lacking lightning-quick reflexes had better know their place and stick to it, by Bast, or there'll be hell to pay.

I stand, er, lay, corrected.

Pardon the Cynicism

Traffic Pollution Damages Male Fertility

Well. Now men have a real reason to be pro-environment, pro-electric car, pro-renewable-resources.

Verdi's Otello

Janis and I went to go see Verdi's 'Otello' Sunday at the San Diego Opera. We're the tall brunette and buxom blonde over on the left balcony, the ones cracking each other up during intermission.

No, no, farther over. Yeah. That was us.

It was, in a nutshell, wonderful.

Otello is, of course, a version of Shakespeare's Othello. Magnificent opening, set at the start of Act II of the play, when Othello arrives triumphant at Cyprus. There's lightning flashing, people running all over the place -- it was amazing.

You miss a little setup by starting in Act II, but also, oddly, I think, gain more insight into Othello's basic insecurity. He doesn't think he's worthy of Desdemona, which is what makes it so easy for him to believe Iago's lies. Iago, however, gets painted I think less complexly than he deserves. There's jealousy, and a lot of it, but there's also a delight I think in manipulating people for the sake of manipulation. He just can't resist.

Desdemona sings this lovely, light (not lighthearted, light, almost sotto voce) Ave Maria before going to what will become her deathbed. Subtly stunning.

All the voices were uniformly superb, the costumes fabulous, and the whole crowd boo'd Iago during curtain call, which he loved.

The sets, for every production we've seen, have been uniformly incredible. Just incredible.

This is the last opera Janis and I will go to see together this season (though I'm going to see Butterfly with someone else), and we're already making plans for a full 5-opera subscription for next season: Turandot, The Pearl Fishers, Don Carlo, Katya Kabonova, and La Traviata.

It's Clueless Git Time!


DOD: Iran tries to derail Iraqi democracy

So. American-style democracy is the One True Path, is that it?

I'm sorry, it's getting really hard to tell extremist bad guys from the good guys these days.

How about -- bear with me, here, I know it's a revolutionary idea -- asking the Iraqi people what kind of government they'd like? For all I know, the current structure just needs a new president. (Much like my own country...but I digress.)


Y'know, as a rather more detailed side comment: the first time I heard the the US is planning on splitting Iraq up into 3 administrative regions I was

a. appalled;
b. not surprised that this would seem logical to a desk-jockey half the world away. "There, that's tidy, isn't it?"

B., I hope, is self-explanatory. A., however, is apparently less so. What happens when you lump together regions and associations that may have very little in common beyond geographical proximity and force them into a new province?

They're going to point at each other and argue, or worse. "Oh, I'm not in his group. No, no no. He's a fill-in-the-blank."

Why is it necessary to modify the country's existing systems into a new structure that literally is the result of some poor schmuck at the Pentagon drawing a few lines on the map of a place they know nothing about? That's just begging for internecine squabbling.

Why is it necessary to recreate the idea of region or province or state or county with new boundaries?

Why cannot the previously-existing 18 governorates (muhafazat, singular - muhafazah) of Al Anbar, Al Basrah, Al Muthanna, Al Qadisiyah, An Najaf, Arbil, As Sulaymaniyah, At Ta'mim, Babil, Baghdad, Dahuk, Dhi Qar, Diyala, Karbala', Maysan, Ninawa, Salah ad Din, and Wasit continue to exist as such?

One of these things seems a hell of a lot easier and sensible than the other.